


Hungry Eyes and Playful Hearts

by Viscariafields



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Halamshiral, teasing Cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 20:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19035130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscariafields/pseuds/Viscariafields
Summary: Ottilia Trevelyan celebrates her victories at Halamshiral by teasing her venerable commander.Fluff with a dash of smut for these goobers.





	Hungry Eyes and Playful Hearts

Ottilia Trevelyan was having a good evening.

She had gotten to sneak through the off-limits wings of the Winter Palace, creeping through forbidden libraries and looting anything that caught her eye. She had gotten to blackmail incredibly powerful people into doing what she wanted. And she had managed to upstage the Empress, the Duke, and the Duchess while wearing one of the ugliest outfits she had ever seen. All those nobles in their fancy shoes and gowns that must have taken months to embroider, and Ottie arrived in an ill-fitting shirt with a decorative sash, twirled around the dance floor, destroyed a small army, and managed to change the fate of Orlais.

Not bad for a Circle mage who had never been to a ball before.

And now she was watching every horny noble in Orlais accost Cullen Rutherford. It took stamina to deflect so many people for so many hours. She wanted to test that stamina. And that resolve. And that stupid, grumpy expression that seemed permanently chiseled onto his face.

She walked past his suitors, turning to wink at him while swiping a full bottle of champagne. Then she strode onto an empty balcony, taking a deep breath of fresh, cool, evening air.

She just had the cork out of the bottle when Cullen arrived. He shut the doors behind him, but Ottie had doubts that would keep his admirers at bay. She could already seem some peering through the windows. She jammed the locking mechanism with ice, and sealed the rest of the door for good measure.

“How will we get back inside?”

Situating herself on the stone wall of the balcony, she took a swig of the champagne. Cullen sat down next to her. She passed the bottle.

 “Who wants to be inside on a night like this?” She leaned back, trying to let her eyes acclimatize to the dark so she could see the stars. She’d had enough of the indoors for two lifetimes, and even after six months in the Inquisition, she still couldn’t get enough of the natural scenery around her. When she finally turned to look at him, Cullen had a dubious expression on his face. She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t planning on using that door again anyway. Come on.” She climbed over stone balcony and grabbed onto a trellis. “Or are you too old to be shimmying down walls?”

She didn’t wait for an answer as she grabbed the bottle from him and scurried down, but she heard him say quietly, “Old?” She landed in an empty courtyard. The smell of lilacs and embrium greeted her nose, and she followed it to the flowering bushes.  

Cullen landed with a huff. Ottie pulled a sprig of lilac off the bush, twirling it between her fingers. The rooms surrounding the garden were empty, off limits, and finally she had this man all to herself. Her eyes were hungry as they traveled over his body.

He was hesitant under her gaze. “You don’t… you don’t really think I’m too old for you, do you?”

She had to stop from laughing. Clearly she had hit a sensitive spot, something he’d already considered. But his thirty years to her twenty-three didn’t bother her in the slightest.

“Oh yes,” she said, reaching out for his sash. She hooked it with her fingers and pulled him closer. “Definitely. Here I am in the bloom of my youth, but you… You’re ancient. Wizened. Elderly. But spry,” she added, looking him up and down. “Don’t worry. I think your advanced age is what I like most about you.”

Cullen looked flabbergasted. Ottie couldn’t keep the smile from taking over her entire face.

“My advanced—”

“I love the way your knees creak when you walk,” she cut him off.

“That is my armor,” he said petulantly. She pulled him in closer.

“And I love your hair, whitened with age.” She ran her fingers through it, and despite himself, Cullen leaned into the touch, bringing his face closer to hers.

“It’s yellow,” he grumbled, “And it always has been.”

She tucked the lilac sprig behind his ear and let her eyes drop to his mouth. “And I love, love, love your wrinkles.” She pressed a kiss to long, thin gash that marred his features. His stubble scratched against her lips as she dragged them lightly over the mark.

“It’s a scar,” he said, amusement creeping into his voice. He sighed into her kiss, then captured her mouth with his own. Now she kissed him in earnest. Hot, wet, teasing his lips between her teeth. He wrapped his arms around her waist, dipping her back as his tongue plunged into her mouth. No measured, controlled kiss on the ramparts today—Cullen was greedy, slating himself against her, matching her in passion.

“And what about your curmudgeonly, stuffy attitude?” she asked, breathless as they broke for air.   

He chuckled, small puffs of air hitting her ear. “That’s just my winning personality.”

She tilted her head back to laugh, but it quickly turned to a moan as he pressed his lips to her neck. And before she gave into her baser urges, before they found a dark corner to make urgent, giggling, ridiculous love, before the sun rose and they had to sneak their way back through the castle, she chalked up one final victory for her time in Halamshiral:

She had gotten Cullen Rutherford to laugh while attending an Orlesian ball.


End file.
